Page 34 of Scarred in Silence

I stare at him, dumbfounded. I find the position uncomfortable because my hands are zip-tied behind my back.

“I… I thought you were going to drown me…”

A smirk threatens his lips, but he suppresses it. He stays quiet.

He reaches next to the tub and grabs a washcloth. He dunks it into the warm water and applies a generous amount of soap.

“W-what are you doing?”

He takes the washcloth and scrubs my back.

“I’m giving my wife a proper bath.”

I freeze—HIS wife.

He continues to wash my body, scrubbing gently. It’s almost as if he cares about me in this moment. I would say he has always cared, but he didn’t. Not when he cheated on me. Not when he told me to choose between him and drugs—my only coping mechanism.

“Lean back like you were in the ocean,” he mumbles.

“I..I can’t… Not with my arms like this.”

“Yes, you can,” his tone is firm now.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

I study his face. His expression is stern yet imploring.

I nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” I whisper, “I trust you.”

I lean back into the water, letting my feet rise in the tub. My ears fill with water, and the sounds around me muffle. It’s just me and my heartbeat. My hair flows effortlessly through the welcoming water.

I feel free. For a second.

My back arches strangely, and my body panics. My face turns towards the water, and I thrash.

Two strong arms scoop me up and bring me to a sitting position. I cough up water, and my eyes burn from the oils.

“You’re okay. It’s okay,” Lucien comforts me.

I look at him, confused by his sudden demeanor. What happened to the asshole who burned my friends’ letters in front of me?

He strokes his fingers through my hair, and I am left feeling stuck. I love his touch, yet I can’t help but feel like this is a trap.

Whatever this is, I have my guard up. No matter how many lies or how much silence I have to endure.

* **

The water has cooled, and silence surrounds me. Lucien left me alone after he washed me. He will probably be back any minute. I am trying to understand his angle, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. I have no idea what benefit marrying me gave him.

He always struck me as a man who doesn’t marry. He likes to keep his options open. Obviously.

He never does anything for anyone unless it benefits him in some way. I’ll figure out his master plan sooner or later. He thinks I’ve just given in, but he should know me better than that. No one may ever hear me when I’m screaming inside, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a fighter.

Heavy footsteps echo throughout the bedroom, making their way closer with every thump.